


Brain Fog

by WillyShakesqueer13



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dizziness, Fainting, Gen, No pairings - Freeform, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillyShakesqueer13/pseuds/WillyShakesqueer13
Summary: When Team TARDIS return to Sheffield, Ryan meets an old friend, and they invite him in for tea. They soon realise, however, that not everything is as it seems, and there's most definitely something wrong with the Doctor.





	1. Tea at Graham and Ryan's

“Why don’t you come over for dinner?” asked Graham as he followed the Doctor’s erratic journey around the TARDIS console. “You know you’re always welcome.”

She punched a few more buttons, flicked a switch, then quirked an eyebrow at him “Sure you’re not sick of me by now?” She was acutely aware that the last adventure had not been one of her finest: in particular, being crushed together with them in that tiny tube-cage and paraded through an alien marketplace. How was she to know that bartering was considered rude on that planet?

“’Course not. You’re one of the ‘fam’ now,” he replied. The Doctor caught an audible groan from Ryan and Yaz in the doorway as Graham grinned proudly to himself. Obviously, the word sounded even more awkward from his lips than it did from her own. Still, she found herself pausing. _Fam, short for family_ , her brain rang, delighted.

The Doctor straightened up. “Alright, then. Tea and Graham and Ryan’s – brilliant!”

Ryan turned to Yaz. “You coming?”

“Of course. Might need to pop home first though,” she smirked, drawing a finger down the sleeve of her jacket and waving at him the slime it had collected. “Need some new clothes.”

“Gross.”

* * *

 

The Doctor was practically skipping across the road ahead of them, having said goodbye to Yaz and left the TARDIS safely parked across the street from Graham’s front door. Ryan was pretty sure she hadn’t even checked for cars. And, of course, she was babbling in her usual way (how she had the energy left, he didn’t know).

“Of course, Time Lords don’t need to eat like humans do; we metabolise far more slowly and with a higher rate of efficiency than a human- oh!”

She was stopped in her tracks as she backpedalled directly into the path of a young man who, engrossed in his phone screen, barged straight into her. The Doctor staggered, grabbing the man’s coat sleeves to hold them both up, a look of surprise plastered over her face.

“I’m so sorry; didn’t even see you there! Should really look where I’m going,” She babbled, mortified. The man just stared at her in shock.

“You alright?” Both Graham and Ryan had jogged over, just in case, and the former went straight into Grandad mode at the sight of the young man’s confused face.

“Ryan!” The man’s face lit up upon seeing him.

Ryan almost choked. “Big T! What are you doing here?”

“Coming home from work, what d’you think?” The two clasped hands, pulling each other into a rough man-hug.

Ryan turned to introduce his mate. “Guys, this is Tyler; we work at the warehouse together.”

Tyler pulled the beanie off his head, releasing a mess of tight-curled black hair. The Doctor scrunched her face into her usual cheery grin, and Graham extended a hand.

“Think I remember Ryan talking about you,” the older man nodded as Tyler clasped his wrist. The young man then looked to the Doctor, his eyes lingering on her for a moment, wiping the grin off her face.

“Sorry about bumping you, Tyler. I should really look where I’m going when I’m talking.”

The young man shrugged, nudging Ryan with his shoulder. “It’s cool. Wouldn’a seen this one if you had.”

The two boys laughed together, and Graham smiled at the Doctor, but for a moment, she didn’t smile back.

“Hey, Ty, why don’t you come in with us? We’re gonna have pizza or something, right Graham?”

The old man nodded to his grandson, half an eye still lingering on his alien companion. “Yeah, ‘course, always room for one more.”

Tyler looked between each of them, then quickly glanced at his watch. “You sure? ‘Cos that would be awesome.”

* * *

 

Graham took a good, long look at the Doctor as he handed her a cup of tea: handle first, as his mum had taught him.

“You alright, Doc?”

“Hmm?” She looked a little startled, having been staring into the middle-distance for quite some time. Her eyes washed dimly over the gaggle of people squashed into Graham and Ryan’s small kitchen. Yaz had arrived just as the kettle had boiled and was energetically conversing with Tyler and Ryan. As she watched, Yaz cracked a sly joke, and Ryan thumped her arm for it, looking embarrassed as Tyler snorted.

Graham leaned into her field of vision again, eyebrows raised. “Doctor?”

“Yes! That’s me. What was the question?” She read the watery blue eyes in front of her. “Oh, yeah: fine. I’m fine!”

“You sure?” Graham frowned, not missing her cautious glance at the group behind him.

“Just a little tired, I think. Nothing to worry about. Probably perk up again in a minute!”

Unconvinced, Graham decided to let it lie, for now. He reached for her shoulder, though, giving her arm an awkward pat before turning his back to her. Ryan caught his gaze with a sideways grin.

“How’re those pizzas coming on?”

“Not long now, mate, ‘nother few minutes,” Graham said, casting a glance at his watch (which read a completely different time to the one on the wall, of course. _Time travel problems_ , he thought to himself) “Want to help me grab some plates?”

“I will!” Yaz buzzed, placing her cup on the side and rubbing her hands together. “You lot take a seat; me and Graham’ve got this.”

Ryan and Tyler nodded their thanks and passed through the doorway into the living room. As he kneeled to gather the plates from a low cupboard, Graham found himself glancing at the Doctor again. She, upon noticing his gaze, deftly pushed up from where she was leant against the counter and hurried to join them.

Yaz followed Graham’s line of sight curiously. “What’s up?”

Graham shrugged, looking lost. “It’s the Doctor. I dunno what’s up with her, but she’s definitely off.”

“She _was_ quiet. Very quiet, actually.”

“Yeah, well, she’s been like that since we came inside.”

Yaz’s face creased with concern. The thought of something wrong with the Doctor was a very concerning one indeed, and it struck a chord of terror in her heart. She didn’t seem a person prone to hiding things. More a person prone to ignoring problems until they were too big to ignore.

“I can try talking to her,” She mused, but Graham shook his head.

“I dunno, she didn’t seem that keen on sharing.”

“Let me try, woman to woman. See if I can catch her alone.”

Yaz took the plates from Graham’s hands and headed for the sitting room.


	2. Pizza Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone who's commented and left Kudos. I appreciate all of your kind support! Thank you!

 

Tyler looked across the room from the sofa they were sat on, and Ryan realised that he was casting another wary glance at the Doctor, who at the present time looked to be dozing in Graham’s armchair, slouched forward, her head in one hand and grasping the arm of the chair with the other.

“So, like, who is she, then?” Tyler asked quietly. His hands were fiddling with the grey scarf he had tightly wound around his neck.

“Her? She’s… a family friend. Big on travelling, you know.”

“How do you know her?”

“Uh… to be honest, I didn’t really know her at all until Nan died. She was at the funeral, you know.”

“She travels?”

“Yeah?”

“How come she’s still here then?”

Ryan scowled, “What’s with all the questions? She’s not gonna bite you.”

“Can confirm: I do not bite.” The Doctor raised her hand in a lazy gesture of peace, only half-opening her eyes, and Tyler blushed right up to his ears.

“Sorry,” Tyler managed to stutter, wringing his hands through his scarf.

“S’alright, I’m not easily offended.” The Doctor was slurring her words ever-so-slightly, Ryan noticed, almost like when she was brought around on the Tsuranga. He didn’t have time to ponder, however, as Yaz bustled in with an arm full of plates and dropped them unceremoniously down on his legs.

“Pizzas in five!” She chimed, barely pausing in her journey across the room. “Doctor, can I have a word outside?”

The Time Lord looked taken-aback for a second, then shrugged and slowly rose from the chair. Yaz’s frown deepened. Her movements were strange, somehow. How could she describe it? Not stiff, just… _numb_. She looked numb, like there was an ache deep in her bones. But it was subtle. So subtle, Yaz realised that Ryan and Tyler had struck up conversation again. They hadn’t even noticed.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as they passed through the hallway door, Yaz pushed it closed and fixed the Doctor with a stare that said _don’t you dare lie to me_.

The Doctor huffed deeply. “Don’t tell me, Graham said I looked off.”

“You do look off.”

“I do not!”

“Then stand up without leaning on that wall.”

The Doctor faltered, like the words were caught just behind her pursed lips, and then she looked away with a hint of frustration. Yaz softened, reaching out to touch her friend’s arm. The Doctor slowly raised her head to meet Yaz’ gaze again, her face bashful and with more than a hint of fear.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Something _is_ wrong, but…”

“Describe it. Just try.”

“I don’t know, I… I just feel tired. I feel so _tired_ , Yaz. And dizzy, and a little bit sick…”

There was a moment of relief, like part of the problem was just getting it off her chest, and the next moment, cold fingers were pressed against her forehead.

“You… don’t feel too hot,” Yaz tried. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

“Do that again.”

“What?”

“Your hand.” The Doctor had fixed her with one of those searching looks, the ones that her team could only obey. Yaz obliged, but this time, the Doctor’s own hand pressed her fingers harder against her skin.

“How warm do you feel right now?” the Time Lord asked.

“Pretty warm,” her friend replied. “A little bit hot, actually; I ran up that hill pretty fast.”

“Hmm,” was the only response, before the Doctor straightened up and put on an unconvincing smile. “Never mind! Five minutes is up; I’d hate for you to miss pizza.”

“Please tell me you’ll say something if you feel really bad.”

“Really, I feel _loads_ better already.”

“No, swear it. I want you to promise me, Doctor, ‘cos I am not picking you up off the floor in there.”

The Doctor paused for a second, like she was _actually_ considering saying no. Then, with a much more earnest nod, she said, “I promise I’ll say something.”

“And it won’t just be, ‘catch me’?”

“That, I can’t promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

Pizza went off without a hitch. In fact, everybody seemed to be getting on really well with Tyler, which obviously pleased Ryan to no end. Graham, however, couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something curious in the way Ryan’s friend reacted to the Doctor. He didn’t ask her questions; rather, he tended to ask questions _of_ her, from other people, when he thought she wasn’t listening, when she was talking to someone else. He was intrigued, fascinated, but somehow fearful. It made Graham’s skin prickle – he couldn’t explain it.

Yaz, however, was more concerned with how much the Doctor was eating, or rather, _wasn’t_ eating. This woman, who boasted the TARDIS record for peanut butter consumption: She’d managed to get through about half a slice before she’d tried slipping it under the table to a dog that wasn’t there (when quietly reminded of the absence of said dog, she picked it back up off the carpet and instead left it on her plate to go cold).

Soon, only one slice remained, which both Tyler and Ryan looked to be eyeing up.

“You want the last slice?” Ryan asked, though he didn’t break eye contact with his friend.

Tyler shrugged, “You have it, mate.”

“Nah, guests get first dibs.”

“It’s fine, Ry, honestly.”

The Doctor raised her hand, clasping her sonic screwdriver. “I have a suggestion!”

Before anyone could stop her (and Yaz really did try), she stretched out and whizzed the device over the pizza slice, dividing it equally down the middle. Only when Tyler almost leapt from his chair did she realise what she’d done.

“What is that thing?!” he cried, wide eyes trained on the sonic.

The Doctor looked at Yaz, who gave her a furious glare that said, ‘ _oh no, you get yourself out of this one’_. “Uhm… laser knife!” She beamed, holding the sonic out in the palm of her hand. When that only made Tyler look more fearful, she continued, “Nifty little device, cuts through almost anything but is completely harmless to human skin. Bit like the saw blades doctors use to cut through casts. Very expensive and _very_ handy. It was a gift! From… a good friend of mine”

When he didn’t look convinced, she buzzed it over her own wrist to demonstrate. But, as Tyler relaxed, the sonic brought up a reading and it was her turn to look surprised. Even as she brushed it off, she caught Graham’s eye, then Yaz’s, and knew she hadn’t got away with it.

“Anyway, if that’s all cleared up, I’d better do the dishes,” the Doctor grinned, hurriedly lifting the plate from the centre of the table, depositing the pizza halves onto Ryan and Tyler’s plates, then gathering up the rest of the crockery in front of herself. As she stood, she seemed to sway for a moment, but kept it under control long enough to make it to the kitchen with her stack of dirty dishes.

Yaz and Graham cast a look between them, and they both looked at Ryan, who’d distracted Tyler with a laser cutting video on his phone. He raised his eyebrows at them. He’d noticed too. Yaz waited until the video had finished and Ryan was searching for a new one before she whipped out her own phone and messaged him:

[Keep Tyler with you. We’ll find out what’s going on with the Doctor, before she does anything else stupid]

Ryan’s phone buzzed, and he looked up to give her an almost imperceptible nod. However, with all of their backs turned, Tyler cast a glance towards the kitchen and allowed himself the ghost of a grin.


	3. Fall of the Doctor

The Doctor was slumped over the sink when Yaz walked in, her head inches away from where hot water was flowing over the pile of dirty dishes in the washing up bowl. As she approached, she could see the Doctor’s shoulders heaving for breath. The woman jumped a mile when Yaz touched her shoulder, leaping back and almost falling against the cupboards, her mouth wide open in shock.

“Doctor!” Yaz’s hands shot out to grab her friend, but somehow, the alien kept her feet. “What’s going on, what aren’t you telling us?”

The Doctor turned to look at the door and realised with an unpleasant jolt that Graham was standing there, observing, his lips tight with concern. She considered her next words carefully.

“You guys trust me, right?”

Yaz scowled, “starting to wonder why, but yes.”

Without warning, the Doctor staggered forwards and grabbed her by the shoulders, their faces close. “There’s something wrong: very, very, _definitely_ wrong. I felt it, and now the sonic is seeing it, too. And I hate to say it, but I think it’s to do with-”

Her words caught in her throat, however, when Graham cleared his throat, and the next second, Tyler appeared in the doorway, holding his and Ryan’s plates and looking more than a little surprised at what he’d walked into. The Doctor straightened up with a pleasant smile, but her hand betrayed her, shooting out to steady herself against the cupboard. It was almost a gift, how small this kitchen was.

“I just thought… you know,” Tyler said sheepishly, holding the plates out. Yaz gave him a friendly smile and took them off him.

“We’ve got them, thanks.”

Tyler’s gaze flicked to the Doctor, and he nervously scratched at something beneath the grey scarf around his neck. “Are… are you alright?”

“Fine, yes, thanks. Just a bit dizzy.” Her wonky smile did nothing to hide the fact that she winced as he took a tentative step towards her. “Happens, sometimes.”

Tyler turned to look at Yaz questioningly, continuing his approach like he was gearing up to catch the alien if she fell. “I’m a first aider, if that helps.”

Yaz looked between the two, her brow deeply furrowed. It was like there was a bubble around him – the closer he got, the glassier her eyes became. The Doctor’s head met her hand, and she looked dimly around the room, then back at Tyler.

“Actually, think I might go sit down for a bit. Be alright in five – probably”

And like that, she was gone, half-rushing, half-staggering through the doorway and out into the living room. There was a moment of stunned silence, before Tyler let out a nervous laugh.

“She always like that?”

“Not usually, no,” Yaz replied, frowning.

“She drunk?”

“She’s sick; I’m gonna see if I can get her to go to bed.”

Yaz disappeared too, brushing past Ryan as he poked his head around the door.

“Everything ok?” He asked no-one in particular, and the looks he received in return were all the answers he needed.

 

* * *

 

 

Yaz walked in to the living room with all the fury of a women unheard, unheeded, and ignored. She was pretty much ready to bash that stupid alien for worrying her like this, if it wasn’t for the fact that she might fall over. However, as soon as she came around the corner and set eyes on the Doctor, all the fury was snuffed like a candle in seawater.

The Time Lady had only half made it to the sofa, her legs sprawling off the edge of the cushions and her arms above her head in disarray. Her eyes were rolling beneath a brow slick with sweat, and her breath gasped through open lips.

Yaz rushed to her side, falling to her knees at the Doctor’s head and brushing her hands over her face, pulling the strands of hair back from her nose and mouth. Those alien eyes took a moment to gain their focus.

“I’m so mad at you,” Yaz breathed half-heartedly. Her hands found their way to the pulse beneath her chin.

“Sorry,” The Doctor started.

Yaz hushed her, pressing her fingers into the skin. Beneath them, she felt two hearts racing.

“What’s going on with you?”

The Doctor’s only reply was a breathy groan, and Yaz shook her head, casting her eyes once again down the alien’s spread-eagled body. Without really thinking about it, Yaz hooked her arms around the backs of the Doctor’s knees and awkwardly shoved the rest of her onto the sofa.

“It’s Tyler,” the Time Lord finally breathed.

“I got that much, but how?”

“Don’t know. I don’t know what he’s doing, but it’s him, and I’m… I’m _scared_ …” She was scrabbling at the fabric now, agonisingly forcing herself upright. “I have to find out what he’s doing. I have to find out _why-_ ”

They heard laughter, and feet scuffing towards them.

“Hey, Tyler, wait a sec,” Ryan was saying as both boys appeared around the corner, stopping dead at the sight of the Doctor. Their raised eyebrows told Yaz that they’d been expecting an empty room. Tyler stared down, wide-eyed, and then nervously fiddled beneath his scarf again.

“Is everything ok?” He began to approach again, shrugging off his waistcoat. “I’m a first-aider, I can help-”

Yaz jumped out of her skin as she felt the Doctor snatch her coat collar, twisting it tightly, until it almost hurt. She looked down and grimaced at the fear she found in those eyes.

The Doctor gulped.

“ _Bathroom.”_

“Right.”

 

* * *

 

 

Getting the Doctor up the stairs was a mammoth task, even for Yaz, who was used to handling people who refused to take their own weight. Refused, or couldn’t. She kept a hand on her back, letting the Doctor stagger up on all fours, and was there to catch her when her limbs gave out and she collapsed against the stairs.

“Why does it have to be upstairs?” She moaned.

“Come on. You’re not throwing up on Graham’s staircase: I’m not cleaning up that mess.”

They carried on, leaning against each other until they made the top, but as the Doctor straightened, a powerful convulsion took her and she fell against the wall, dryly heaving.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Yaz threw an arm around her friend, shoving the bathroom door open with the other and manhandling the Doctor inside.

 

* * *

 

 

Tyler looked at a loss, staring around until his eyes found Ryan, standing there equally dumbfounded.

“She doesn’t like me, does she?”

Ryan frowned. “Mate, listen, it’s not you. I’ve literally never seen her like this before.”

Tyler ran his hands through his hair, then scratched beneath his scarf. “Listen, I’ve stayed long enough. Looks like stuffs going down here: I better go.”

Ryan shrugged as Graham appeared behind him.

“What on earth’s going on now? Sounded like a herd of elephants going up the stairs!”

Ryan gave his grandad a bleak look. “It’s the Doctor. Something’s well off.”

“I’ll go check on her. Oh, are you going?” He suddenly noticed Tyler, heading for the door.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Thank for pizza.”

“No worries, mate, any time.”


	4. Radio Interference

The Doctor had tried, but she hadn’t managed to be sick. Instead, she found it was all she could do to slump over the edge of the bath and press her burning forehead into the cool plastic. Somewhere along the way, between trying to hold her hair back and chatting to keep her calm, Yaz had stripped her coat off her back and placed it on the floor beside her.

Speaking of Yaz, she felt a gentle hand run its way up her back (politely ignoring the sweat) and come to rest between her shoulder blades. The alien looked up into Yaz’s sweet, concerned face.

“You alright now?”

“Better, I think, yeah,” The Doctor wheezed.

“Then can you tell me what’s going on? You know, before we get interrupted again.”

She took a moment to steady herself, swallowing hard, then said, “There’s something Tyler’s got that’s making me ill. Like a neural relay or something, transmitting waves that are messing with my head.”

“How come it’s only you? The rest of us are fine.”

“Time Lords are telepathic. Well, sort of. Touch-telepaths.” She shuffled around so she could wave her hands about, brightening considerably. “See, by touching you, I could connect our brains together. I could speak to you, or see your memories, or show you mine. I’d demonstrate, if my head didn’t hurt so much.”

Yaz’s face flickered with a smile of relief, before she frowned again. “But he’s not touching you.”

“It’s all to do with brainwaves. My brainwaves, to be exact. Think of my brain as a radio station, transmitting invisible waves of information through my body and out into the air: Whatever he’s got, it’s on the same frequency as my head and somehow, they’re penetrating, clashing, corrupting each other-”

“His scarf!” Yaz blurted, and the Doctor fixed her with a questioning look. “Every time he’s near you, he fiddles with his scarf. Have you noticed? I thought it was nerves, but…”

She trailed off at the sound of footsteps mounting the stairs.

 

* * *

 

“You sure you can’t stay?”

“Sorry, Ryan. It was nice. We’ll do it again some time.” Tyler shrugged as he opened the door and stepped through. However, he paused at the sight of the TARDIS. “Her ship…” He breathed.

Ryan’s blood ran cold. “What did you say?”

Tyler turned and fixed him with an unconvincing smile. “Nothing. See ya, Ryan.” And with that, he pulled the door closed behind him.

Ryan shook his head, trying to ease the tension he could feel, but nothing helped. _That was definitely weird. Dead weird._ Tyler didn’t know the Doctor. He couldn’t possibly have known that the TARDIS belonged to her, let alone that it was a spaceship… could he?

 

* * *

 

Graham poked his head around the door, surveying the two women on the floor of his bathroom.

“Blimey, Doc, you look awful!”

The Doctor smiled bitterly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Graham.”

“Well, lucky for you, we’ve got the house to ourselves for the rest of the night. Tyler’s just gone.”

Yaz and the Doctor suddenly sat bolt upright, looking at each other fearfully.

“… What? What did I say?” Graham frowned, then seemed to realise, “Was it to do with him?”

“Tyler was using some sort of device to scramble the Doctor’s brain,” Yaz explained hurriedly.

“That explains why I already feel better,” The Doctor mused. Then, with a huff, she heaved herself to her feet. “We need to follow him.”

“What? But I though he was hurting you!” Graham was lost once again.

“Not hurting, exactly. Just… making me sick. Sickening me? No, that’s not right either… neither’s poisoning…”

Suddenly, Ryan’s head appeared around the doorframe. “Doctor! Tyler’s just left, but when he saw the TARDIS, it was like he recognised it. It were proper weird. I don’t like it.”

“Me neither.” Without hesitation, the Doctor leapt into action, squeezing between the boys and heading down the stairs at speed. And when she stumbled, Yaz and Ryan were there, grabbing her arms and pushing her on, because they knew this was important. This was serious.

The TARDIS was in danger.

* * *

 

“Tyler, stop!”

He was hallway across the road towards when he heard the Time Lord rushing towards him. In a panic, he swung around to meet her fierce glare. She was charging right for him. If that elder’s stories were true, the moment she laid hands on him, he was as good as dead.

Without a second thought, his hand flew up to the device at his neck, and he twisted the dial as far as it would go, watching with a bitter mixture of horror and relief as she gave a cry and staggered to a halt, clutching at her head. Shivers ran through his body. Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the sour tang of that woman’s terror on his tongue.

The only thing near enough to catch her as she fell was the parked car he had just passed, and she crashed into it with overwhelming force, fumbling fingers grasping uselessly at the paintwork as she slid to the ground.

“You can’t stop me, Doctor. I’m sorry; you’ve lost!”

 


	5. Look Both Ways

The dizziness was complete, absolute. _Breathe_. The ground. Where did the ground come from? She couldn’t see… couldn’t see! _Breathe!_ Like water in a drain, she spun endlessly, endlessly. She smelled burning. Her ears rang, high pitched and frightened. Terrified, she called for help, and heard sounds; strange sounds: noises. Her noises. Dammit, she couldn’t even speak!

_Breathe._

She placed her forehead on the cold, wet ground, heaving. Her lungs were tight, too tight. Her body trembled. This was hell.

 

* * *

 

Ryan sprinted forward as soon as the Doctor went down, crashing to his knees beside her, grabbing her shoulders. Yaz was there too, in an instant, but there was nothing they could do. The Doctor was mumbling and moaning, not in pain, but with the sheer anguish of it. She tried to push herself up, her eyes closed, but she toppled again, falling against him.

He really didn’t know what he was doing. What could he do? Ryan gulped, turning his eyes to Tyler, frozen in the middle of the street, a strange, fearful expression on his face.

“Tyler, stop!” That was Yaz, screaming beside him with all the anger and power she had. “Stop this _right now._ ”

Ryan put his arms around the Doctor, steadying her swaying, letting her press her head against his sternum as she released a pitiful groan. Her every breath made a pathetic sound so cruel in its very existence.

 

* * *

 

 _Keep breathing, that’s it._ There was a body beside her now. She tried to open her eyes, to see who it was, but the spinning she saw made her stomach turn and she’d be damned if she was gonna throw up in someone’s lap. She felt their arms wrap around her, steadying her. Her head fell against their chest. Solid. She gripped on, anchored herself: their breathing; _his_ breathing, was heavy with fear. Fear for her. But no longer did she spin endlessly, wildly, in the vortex, not when she had Ryan to cling to, safe by her side.

 

* * *

 

Ryan looked up, eyes pleading, first to Yaz, and then to Tyler, who faltered. His gaze flashing down at the tarmac, he finally raised his hand to his neck. Almost instantly, the Doctor fell limp, gasping for air like she’d been choked.

“How _dare_ you?” Was Yaz crying? No, not quite, but her voice was thick. Tyler said nothing, simply turning and hurrying to the TARDIS doors.

Ryan felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into Graham’s pained, watery eyes. The old man offered an encouraging smile, but it was hardly convincing. To his right, Yaz was already reaching to pull the stray strands of gold out of the Doctor’s eyes.

The Time Lord was slowly taking her own weight again, shaky though she was. A rush of relief streamed through Ryan as she raised herself from his shoulder and spoke.

“That,” she finally heaved, “was extremely unkind. Very not nice.” She looked up; face pale, slick with sweat and set in a stubborn frown. “Oh, and don’t bother with the TARDIS; you won’t get in. Not when you’ve done this to me.”

When rattling the locked doors did nothing, Tyler turned back to the group darkly. “Let me in.”

“I can’t do that,” the Doctor said.

He reached up and snatched the scarf from his neck, revealing what looked like a choker, attached to which were two small, black boxes, the likes of which Ryan thought he’d once seen on a dog’s shock collar. Tyler held his finger up to one threateningly. “I’ll do it again.”

Yaz was instantly on her feet: the only thing that stopped her was the Doctor’s hand snatching her wrist. He was looking between them all desperately.

“I’m serious!” A couple of paces brought him closer to them. Somewhere in the distance, a car engine roared. “I’m not afraid of you, Doctor. I know what you’re capable of, what you’ve done, but I’m not scared! Look at you. You’re weak. You’re done for.”

The Doctor was silent. Eerily so. Ryan frowned as she bent forward, hands outstretched, palms flat on the ground. Her eyes were intense, focused.

Tyler nervously laughed, “What are you doing?”

The Time Lord jerked upright, tension rippling down her body. “Move!”

They suddenly caught a squeal of tyres, the revving of an engine. Tyler was frozen, illuminated in the headlights of a car that came skidding out from the junction of the housing estate behind Graham’s house. Way too fast. The driver didn’t have a chance to react.

But the Doctor did.

The next few seconds were a flurry of sound and light. The Doctor’s coat snapped in Ryan’s ear. The car’s brakes screamed. There was a thud of bodies. The engine moaned, stuttered, and fell silent.

Huddled with his hands over his head, the first thing that hit Ryan was the stench of burnt rubber. Vile, acrid, and close; too close. He uncurled himself from where he’d pressed himself back into Graham, dread filling every tiny part of his being. His grandad was staring too. The car had stopped only meters in front of them. It filled his vision, the chipped, scuffed, faded red paint, the holes of rust around the rear wheel arch. The tyres smoked. He choked on the foul smell.

The door suddenly flew open on the driver’s side, and Ryan scrambled to his feet to watch a young woman stagger out, younger than him, clearly in shock. She stopped to gape, open-mouthed, at him, then Yaz, then at something by her side. Ryan realised, with a pang of dread, that the Doctor was no longer beside him.

“No…” he breathed.

“You bloody idiots!” The woman screamed at her feet. Her furious glare washed over them all, and froze when she spotted Yaz, weighed her up, recognised her. “You… you’re with the feds.”

“Yeah, I am.” Yaz was the picture of calm, but Ryan could see the fire raging beneath the surface. “But we don’t call it that. And you’ve just broken a dozen laws or more.”

The woman didn’t hang around; in a heartbeat, she was back in her vehicle, and it didn’t matter that Yaz instantly engaged her police training, shouting at her to stop, rushing to the driver’s side of the vehicle. The engine roared again, and with a skid, the car raced off down the road. Yaz had to stop running after a few meters. It was clear she wouldn’t catch up.

Ryan, however, had become oblivious to the chase the moment he’d set eyes on the two bodies the other side of the road. The Doctor and Tyler, locked in struggle, with her arm pressed under his chin and his hands around her neck.

The Time Lord delved into the pocket of her jacket with her free hand: or, at least, she tried to, before she realised she wasn’t wearing it.

“Sonic!” She choked out. “I need my- agh!”

Tyler’s hand had found the box at his neck again, and, weakened and panting, she could do nothing as he threw her to the ground beside him. However, it was barely a moment before a long, hard metal object clattered into the road by her hand.

Ryan looked over his shoulder, to where his grandad stood, arm still outstretched from the under-arm toss. Graham turned to him and grinned.

“Never hurts to be prepared.”

As the Doctor fumbled for the sonic, she watched a pair of shoes race past her and heard a yelp. Her fingers finally clasping cold Sheffield steel, she raised the sonic, pointed, and pressed.

And then, finally, relief.


	6. Patience

Yaz had to work really hard at not letting her armlock become a chokehold. She twisted Tyler’s arm up behind his back as hard as she could, trying not to let his cries of pain push her, but my God, could she hurt him. She wanted to; she really did.

The Doctor was sprawled on the floor ahead of them, hunched forward and breathless with relief. Yaz could just about see her over Tyler’s struggling shoulder, trying to desperately to make her tired limbs cooperate. In a heartbeat, Ryan and Graham had flanked her, slipping their hands beneath her arms and lifting her up.

Tyler gave up struggling, sagging into Yaz’s grip. In a broken voice, he said, “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Yaz snarled in his ear. “Can’t hurt you, but you can hurt the Doctor all you want?”

“Yaz,” the Time Lord breathed, “Let him go.”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure she’d heard right, but as Yaz met her friend’s tired eyes, she understood. Tyler staggered as she released her hold, and Yaz’s trusting gaze remained on the Doctor as she moved to join her friends.

Evidently, Tyler was still reeling. He stood before them, hunched, tense, like a cornered animal. His eyes flitted from each person to another, lingering most of all on the Doctor.

“You… You saved my life. Why did you do that?”

The Time Lord’s gaze was measured, weighing him up, giving nothing away. Her mind was alive, question after question roiling behind her steady eyes.

Tyler suddenly crashed to his knees, his hands up, terrified. “Please, spare me, Doctor, oh destroyer of worlds!”

Yaz jolted, her eyes flashing to Ryan, who looked equally as lost. But when she looked back at the Doctor, she found only dark sadness in those old eyes.

“You’re safe. I won’t hurt you, Tyler.” Suddenly, she jerked upright, bouncing towards him. “Except, you’re not, are you? You’re not actually Tyler. You’ve just borrowed a human face, one we’d know, one we’d trust.” Circling him, she pointed the sonic at his neck, and he recoiled from her timidly, the way someone bitten recoils from a dog. “Two boxes round your neck. One’s a brainwave replicator. Think that’s pretty obvious, but the other…” The Doctor sonicked the other box, and suddenly, Tyler began to change. “… is a perception filter. Hiding in plain sight.”

 The air seemed to shimmer. From Tyler’s skin, hair began to sprout. His nose lengthened, his features flattened, he grew a second pair of eyes. What looked like a big, black wristwatch appeared around his wrist. Ryan watched in awe as tusks poked their way out from beneath his lips.

 “Mate,” Ryan breathed, “You look like a wookie got hit with a stop sign.”

Not-Tyler looked down at his hands, then up to where the Doctor was crouching beside him, her face soft and kindly.

“Let’s start again. Hello! I’m the Doctor; what’s your name?”

It took a long time, but the alien finally seemed to find his voice. “I… I am Patience.”

“Patience? Great name. Met several girls called Patience, back in the 1600s,” she chattered brightly, standing up again.

“… You aren’t going to kill me?”

“Kill you? Why would I want to, after I already saved your life?”

Yaz scowled; _I can think of one good reason_.

“Because… Because that’s what you do, isn’t it?” Patience was stammering, unsure, but he boldened as he continued, “The Elders always taught us about you, about your conquests, about the people you’ve killed. The planets you’ve ravaged, fighting against the Colonists.”

Yaz was waiting, desperate for the Doctor to deny it, except she didn’t. There was a pain behind her eyes that made Yaz almost want to cry.

“Ysso-Cantarian, aren’t you?” The Doctor replied. “Your people, they’ve always been scared of me, and they have a right to be. Oh yes, they’re terrified by the stories they were told of the Doctor.” Patience was nodding now, his furry brows tilting up. “Because by about this century, your Colonists have long gone, but their stories have stayed embedded in your history.”

The Doctor laughed bitterly. She wouldn’t look at her friends, refused to, even. Her eyes stayed trained on Patience as he slowly got to his feet.

“The history books tell of your slaughters,” he said.

“Did they tell of the Sontarans’ slaughter, too? The millions of people - _your_ people – who they gunned down when they settled on your planet and made slaves of you all?”

“But they’re gone now. We fought for our independence and we won.”

The Doctor nodded. “Yes, you did, and that’s why you’re here. You need something from me, something from my TARDIS, and you were so afraid, you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t have sent a signal because you thought I was just as bad as them.”

She began to pace around, her hands held out as she worked through everything buzzing in her mind. “The Sontarans happened upon your planet and found the ground so stuffed with resources that they couldn’t refuse. They enslaved your population to mine the minerals from the ground, ruined your government, burned your history books and rewrote everything, and all so you couldn’t ask for help from the one person they feared more than anyone in the universe.”

Patience looked at her, wonder filling his eyes. “You’re saying the Elders are wrong?”

The Doctor shook her head. “No, not wrong, just misinformed. They had no reason to question the writings. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

Patience began to smile hopefully, nodding his shaggy head.

“You asked me earlier why I saved you from that car. It’s really simple – because that’s what I do. I’m the Doctor, and I help people. Now, talking of safe and sorry…” The Doctor gently held her hand out ahead of her. “Take off the collar. Please. I promise you, I won’t hurt you. I want to help. But I can’t risk letting you do that to me again.”

Now, the hope was faltering again, and Patience looked over her nervously.

“These guys will vouch for me!” The Doctor threw a hand out towards her friends. One by one, Ryan, Graham and Yaz nodded their heads.

“You can trust her,” Yaz said.

“She’s saved our lives, more than once,” Ryan added.

Graham smiled. “Wouldn’t be without her now.”

“Aww!” The Doctor scrunched her nose up in a bashful grin. Then, turning back, she found Patience reaching up towards his neck. There was a moment, a moment when she betrayed herself, where her body betrayed her and tensed up and she felt a pang of fear, a jolt of _not again, please_.

And then Patience placed the collar in her hand.

The Doctor beamed. “So, Patience: What do you need?”


	7. Bring Him Home

Clearly, they didn’t have TARDIS’s where Patience came from. Graham caught him staring at the spaceship almost every time he looked. Following the Doctor down the corridor, the alien seemed so speechless, so small, despite the fact that he towered a foot over even Ryan’s head. They entered the Med-bay, and Graham stood back while the Doctor began rifling through drawers, tossing plastic-sealed equipment and packs of ointments and pills around the place.

The room was rounded at the edges, all perfectly white and spotlessly clean, but, unlike a human hospital, it didn’t reek of cleaning fluids and antibac. There was a group of beds along the back and a rectangle in the floor where an operating table rose up when needed. Otherwise, the space was left open for easy access to the cabinets and drawers on either side. Counters ran below and above them, one holding a sink for handwashing. The soft, blue glow was reflected in Patience’s four eyes, and Graham smiled at the wonder that filled them.

“So is everyone named after godly virtues where you come from?” He asked curiously.

Patience frowned. “No. What makes you say that?”

“TARDIS translation matrix!” The Doctor called over her shoulder. “’Patience’ isn’t his name as much as his name is a word in their language that means ‘patience’. Quite simple, really!”

Graham turned to Ryan, who was shaking his head. “Really not,” the boy mumbled.

“I know it’s supplies you need, but for what ailments, exactly?” The Doctor paused to ask.

“War wounds, mostly, but there’s something else,” said Patience. Under all that fur, Graham was sure he had gone red. “There’s… there’s something wrong with my mum. She’s really sick, from a wound in her leg.”

“So that’s why you came. You came to save her,” Yaz breathed, eyes misty with empathy.

“And she’s not the only one,” the alien continued. “There are others like her, too. It never used to happen, but now…”

“The war, the slavery, the conditions, they’ve changed things, right? Maybe the Sontarans brought some form of microbial life with them. Sounds like an antibiotic job to me.” The Doctor was hurrying back over, staggering through the piles she’d made on the floor. “Question is, which ones would work on you lot- whoa!” Halfway across, her legs seemed to forget how to move, and she threw her arms out to avoid falling. Ryan was closest, snatching her hand and hauling her back up again.

Patience winced, his shoulders hunching unhappily. The Doctor, however, was grinning.

“Sorry! Had a moment. Fine now, though.”

“Because of me?”

She shrugged, “Doesn’t matter!” In an instant, she had the sonic in her hand and was buzzing it up and down Patience’s body. Then she held it up, scanning the readings. “Ooh, is that a binary vascular system? Snap!”

“And she’s lost me,” Graham grumbled fondly. His eyes followed her as she bounced across to the other side of the room, chattering as she did so, snatching a bag from under a desk and then sweeping an entire shelf-load of pill packets into it.

“These should do the trick! All in a handy backpack, of course. You’re going to make a great healer, Patience.” To the other side of the room, she stumbled, gathering into the backpack the pots and bandages she’d already accumulated, and then she struggled to zip it closed.

Graham didn’t miss the half a second she took to rest against the pristine counter. Then she was bustling back over to them, holding the straps of the backpack out for Patience to put on.

“There you go!”

Patience looked down at the ground, then turned his four gleaming eyes to her, a picture of wonder. But, as he started to speak, the Doctor put her hand up, hushing him.

“We’re not done yet. Come on, you lot.” And with that, she was out of the door and hovering beyond the doorframe, chauffeuring them into the corridor beyond.

Graham cast a glance over the scene of pandemonium that she’d left in her wake. “But Doc, what about the… Oh, never mind.” At this point, he’d learned not to argue.

As the door slid closed behind them, the Doctor fixed Patience with a warm smile. “Just one more thing,” She promised, pointing the sonic over her shoulder at the room they had just left. “Store room, please!”

There was a strange sort of groaning, the TARDIS bubbling and beeping, and then the Doctor hurried back to the door, grinning manically as it slid open in the opposite direction and revealed a dimly lit room overflowing with space junk.

“I love it when that works. Back in a tick!”

As she disappeared, Patience shuffled his foot, looking awkwardly down at Yaz and Graham to his left. On the other side, Ryan was staring at the thick fur bristling from the alien’s arm. Without really thinking about it, he reached out to touch it.

Patience whipped his arm away, startled, turning to face Ryan.

“Sorry,” Ryan said, embarrassed; “your fur’s really soft.”

Patience scuffed his feet shyly. “D’you really think so?”

There was a crash, followed by a whoop, and the Doctor reappeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath and beaming from ear to ear.

“Should really clean that place up, one day, when I have a couple of decades.”

The door slid shut as she stepped through, then she triumphantly held aloft what looked like a fidget cube, minus all faces except the big round roller ball.

Patience stared, amazed. “What is it?”

“Universal Distress Beacon: UDB for short. Linked into the TARDIS circuits. Doesn’t matter how old this gets, or how bashed, or where it’s activated from, or when: the call will always get to me, and I will always respond.”

She tossed it into the air and caught it again, looking pleased with herself, then dropped it into Patience’s waiting palm. He carefully stowed it in the side pocket of the backpack, then looked at them all and smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

Outside, Patience closed the TARDIS doors, the last to leave the old blue box and meet the group waiting for him under the stars in the middle of the deserted street.

“I really don’t know what to say, Doctor,” he began, shuffling his feet with a nervous smile. “Other than thank you, of course. You’re definitely not what I imagined you’d be.”

“And you, Patience, are a remarkable, amazing, impossibly brave young person.” The Doctor slipped her hands into her trouser pockets, warmth and love radiating from her smile. “That a vortex manipulator on your wrist?”

When Patience nodded, her nostrils flared with disapproval. “Don’t like ‘em. I could give you a lift?”

“That’s alright; you’ll probably frighten them all away. Besides, I’ve put you through enough trouble already.”

Her lips pursed, she shook her head, as though trying to shake it off. “You’re gonna save a lot of people’s lives. Your mum’s, for one, and then so many others. And if you ever need us again, you know where to call.”

Patience nodded, then typed the coordinates into his vortex manipulator and took a deep breath.

“I’m really sorry, by the way, about the head thing.”

The Doctor’s smile faultered for the slightest of moments, but she laughed it off. “Honestly? Not the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me. People do crazy things when they’re scared, and you really were scared.” She reached out and patted Patience’s arm (she couldn’t quite reach his shoulder). “The most important thing is, you stopped, and you apologised, and I forgive you.”

Patience nodded as The Doctor stepped back from him again, his hand hovering over the watch. “Goodbye, all of you. Thank you.”

Yaz, Graham and Ryan waved heartily from behind the Doctor, shouting their goodbyes long after the light of the vortex had swallowed Patience up and dissipated into the cool night air.

“He wasn’t all bad after all,” Graham smiled warmly.

Yaz looked between her friends, letting the hearty glow linger in her chest, but she found her gaze lingering on the Doctor, whose back was still turned. The woman had visibly slumped, her head hanging from her shoulders. Yaz reached out to touch her shoulder, and she slowly turned.

“You alright, Doctor?”

“Think so. All this has left me tired.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, pressing a hand to her belly. “And hungry,” she mused.

“Well, there’s no pizza left, but I can probably whip you up a sarnie,” Graham smirked.

“Ooh, Marmalade, please. Just got a craving.” She was trying to mimic his enthusiasm, but every second that passed, her body grew heavier. As Graham turned to head for the house, she blew out a breath, leaning forward to rest her hands on her knees. Her head was filling with cotton wool.

Ryan crouched beside her. “You sure you’re ok?”

Dimly, she straightened up, fixing her friends with a very serious look, then stuck a finger up her right nostril. “Yaz, Ryan-”

“Don’t say it,” Yaz warned.

The Doctor gave a quick half-smile, before her knees gave out and she toppled into the darkness of their arms.


	8. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry about the wait for this chapter, my mental health has been pretty poor so I thought I needed to get my priorities straight! One more chapter to go now, but don't worry, I'm sure I'll post something else soon enough!

“I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have made that sarnie,” Graham grumbled, nodding his head towards the plated sandwich lying untouched at his elbow. He was sitting at the head of the table, resting his chin against his fist, looking more than a little bored. “I hope she knows I’m missing _Pointless_ for this.”

Yaz smiled to herself, her legs crossed in the chair to his left, picking at the sleeves of her cardigan. She knew full well that this was Graham’s way of saying _I’m really, truly worried_. She agreed with the sentiment, of course; her stomach was tying itself in all sorts of knots just looking at the Doctor, once again lying across Ryan’s sofa.

Ryan himself was on guard duty, sat on the carpet by the Doctor’s side with his long legs stretched straight out in front of him. “If you’re that desperate to watch telly, you can sit on the floor with me,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow at his grandad.

They fell into a silence, one that was at once comfortable and thick with unease. Yaz went on picking – the hole was big enough now that she could comfortably fit her thumb through it. Ryan scrolled through his phone and Graham continued to sigh, listening to the quiet ticking of the mantlepiece clock.

He could almost see her there, reflected in the mirror above the fire, standing right behind him. The colours of her favourite jacket – he could name every one. Graham shivered. God forbid the same fate befall yet another person he’d grown so close to.

Ryan suddenly turned around on his bottom, his face contorting in all manner of worried expressions. “Did anyone else hear that?”

Yaz was on her feet immediately. “Hear what? What’s wrong?”

“She just made a noise.”

Graham and Yaz joined him, kneeling by the sofa, all eyes on the woman stretched across the soft cushions. Her mouth was curling down at the edges, and grouped with the concerning crinkle between her brows, her face seemed to have taken on the guise of a kicked puppy.

“What d’you mean, son? What kind of noise?” Graham cast a glance at Ryan, who’s wide eyes were transfixed.

“I dunno, I can’t describe it. Like she was tryna say something but she couldn’t”

Yaz reached forward and held her fingers beneath the Doctor’s nose, then gently moved to place her head on her chest, listening to her hearts. “Her pulse is going crazy,” Yaz murmured, straightening up. “Her breathing, too. D’you think she’s about to-”

All three suddenly jumped back as the Doctor jolted upright, hollering something incomprehensible. Her arms flew out in a frenzy, like she was expecting to fight something, but instead grabbed hold of the closest person she could reach, who just happened to be Yaz.

“Doctor!” the girl yelped, grasping her sleeves. “Doctor, it’s alright! Settle down. You’re fine, we’re here.”

The Time Lord was heaving for breath, her eyes as wild as her hair as she looked between them all, almost as though having to work to recognise them.

“… Fam?” she croaked.

Yaz grinned, in spite of herself. Her heart was hammering, sure, but she kept a tight, steady grip on the Doctor as she struggled to calm down.

“You’re alright now,” she smiled soothingly. Then she frowned. “… You are alright, aren’t you?”

“Ungh… Not sure,” the Doctor replied. Her face creased with pain, and she curled forward, letting a strangled groan escape her lips. “Thought this might hurt… not this much, though.”

“What’s hurting?” Ryan asked gently.

“Head… my head… oooh, not good.”

Yaz sat up onto her knees, putting a hand behind the Doctor’s neck to help her lower herself back down again. She could almost watch the colour draining from the alien’s skin, leaving her so pale, she was almost green. There was a pulse throbbing at her temple, and Yaz found herself staring at the tendons shifting in her neck as she clenched and unclenched her jaw.

“This isn’t fair, it didn’t hurt before,” The Doctor complained lamely. Ryan reached out and placed a hand on her arm and realised she was full-body trembling.

“Don’t tell me you sent Patience off with all your alien painkillers,” Graham piped up as Yaz slipped her hand into the Doctor’s. She managed to shake her head, barely.

“Coat pocket,” She breathed. Graham almost asked _which one?_ but quickly realised it would be useless – there was no way he’d find them. Instead, he bustled off into the kitchen to raid his own medicine cabinet. Meanwhile, Yaz cast a glance at Ryan, then reached up and placed a hand on the Time Lord’s forehead.

“Think you could find a cold, damp cloth?” She asked him. Ryan nodded, grateful for something to do.

The Doctor suddenly loosed another pitiful moan, drawing her knees up as thought that would do any good, her face pulling into an ugly grimace. Her palm, still clasped in Yaz’s hand, was growing clammy.

“What did he do to me?”

Yaz honestly felt like crying. This wasn’t fair. Patience was such a nice person, as soon as he put the technology down. He was trying to do good, to help his people. More than that, he was frightened – terrified. She couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him. And yet…

“Shh, it’s alright: we’ve got you,” she breathed, smoothing down the wild mess of hair that was growing ever worse atop the Doctor’s head. “Just take some deep breaths; you’re not breathing.”

Yaz was right, the Time Lord realise with a jolt. In through her nose and out through her mouth. Hurried slipper-shuffles at the door announced Graham’s arrival, a glass of water in one hand and a couple of dubious yellow pills in the other, both of which he waved in the Doctor’s direction as he perched on the other arm of the sofa.

“Take a couple of these; they’ll probably sort you out.”

Yaz helped the Doctor sit up gingerly, though she didn’t seem too happy about it. Making a hurried grab for the pills, she placed one on her tongue, frowned, then unceremoniously spat it back out into her own lap.

“Graham! Are you trying to kill me?”

Graham looked horrified. “Whadda’ya mean?!”

“Asperin is lethal to Time Lords! Kick-the-bucket, pop-yer-clogs, stoney-dead lethal!”

“Well, you could’a mentioned that before you started yelling! Frightened the life out of me, man of my age…”

The Doctor eyed him warily for a moment, then dropped her gaze shamefully. “Sorry, you’re right. You’re right!” She shuffled her position slightly, swallowing. “I didn’t mean to yell, I think… I think I’m just– Agh!”

Clutching her head, she stifled another grunt and focused on breathing painfully through. Yaz put a hand on her back, rubbing small circles until she looked up again.

When she spoke, it was with a cracked, tired voice. “Sorry, it’s coming in waves. Like contractions in my brain. No, wait – that’s a terrible analogy. Pass me my coat, Graham; I think I remember which pocket they’re in.”

Yaz just wanted to hug her; she looked so weak, so pale, so utterly exhausted. The Doctor glanced her way, catching her staring and giving her a heart-breaking look of helplessness. At that point, she really was about to ask, but she felt a hand on her shoulder, and Ryan was offering her a damp flannel.

“Hope that’s ok,” he muttered.

Yaz beamed at him, then held it out to Doctor. “Try this; it might help.”

As soon as it touched her forehead, the Doctor actually sighed with relief, cracking a weak smile for the first time. Then, as her coat was handed to her, she settled herself rifling through the pockets for those fabled alien painkillers.

 

* * *

 

As each wave passed, the pain grew weaker and weaker, until all that was left was a niggling, dull ache in the back of the Doctor’s head. She managed to make it to the table and drink three glasses of water in quick succession, but the marmalade sandwich still proved too much, and so she had Graham stash it in the fridge for later.

When nothing more could be done, Graham suggested they find something half interesting on the telly, and he, Yaz and the Doctor squeezed themselves onto the comfy sofa (Ryan opted to drag his gaming beanbag down the stairs from his room. And by drag, he of course meant drop-kick it the entire length), and together, they flicked through channels before settling on a load of old _Mastermind_ repeats.

The Doctor instantly answered all the questions, not always correctly, but after the first contestant took the money at £5000 (“How could you _not_ know the circumference of Jupiter!”), she grew quieter and quieter. Finally, she seemed to give up entirely, sagging onto Yaz’s shoulder with only the slightest suggestion that she realised what was happening.

Without thinking, Yaz wrapped an arm around her, the way she used to when Sonya did the same in the middle of a Disney movie. Graham caught her eye with a twinkling smile, reaching out to place his hand softly on the Doctor’s knee, and when Ryan looked up at their reflections in the mirror, he was sure he could see her smiling in her sleep.


	9. Epilogue

Graham was flattered that Yaz had popped in on her way home from work, even if she was barely keeping herself awake. Her chin rested in the palm of her hand, propped up at the elbow by the table, and a cup of tea steamed warmly in front of her. That being said, it was pretty toasty in here – perhaps he shouldn’t have turned the heating on yet.

The front door clicked closed, which roused the both of them. Graham listened closely to the heavy bag that was dropped on the stairs, the shoes clattering against the wall as they were kicked off, and shuffling sock-clad footsteps that bristled through into the front room. Ryan – he didn’t even have to look up.

“Yaz? What are you doing here?” The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Cheers. It’s good to see you, too,” she replied.

“Cup o’ tea, son?” Graham smiled, already standing and heading for the teapot.

Ryan shrugged, flopping into the chair opposite Yaz. He was getting one regardless; he’d learned this by now. As Graham passed through the doorway into the kitchen, Ryan chanced a glance at Yaz, smirking as she stifled a yawn. “I’m not the only one, then?”

“Time travel really isn’t compatible with earth sleep schedules,” Yaz grumbled.

His eyes searched her. “Where’d that bruise come from?”

“Which one?”

She held patiently still as he reached out and brushed a finger over the dark patch on her cheekbone.

“Oh, that. Yeah, that was yesterday. I texted you about him, remember? High as a kite, getting narky with a shop assistant. Didn’t keep my face out the way of his hands, and his ring caught me.”

“Ouch.”

Yaz chuckled. “Oh, honestly, Ryan. I didn’t even notice it happen.”

A cup of tea appeared under Ryan’s nose, and Graham patted his shoulder fondly. “Good day at the workshop?”

“It were alright, yeah.”

As Graham took a seat, they fell into a comfortable silence. It felt good; it felt normal. Just three people, sitting around a table, being friends. No aliens, no monsters, no danger.

Yaz had been the one to suggest it, that they should have a few days worth of normality after everything they’d been through. She could do a few shifts at work, Ryan could catch up on his NVQ work, and Graham… well, he had a lot of TV he’d missed.

Truth was, she did really miss her family, and she’d almost forgotten what earth felt like. She’d also forgotten the bread her parents had sent her out for, the night she’d left with the Doctor, and the fact that she’d promised her mum an explanation. Well, now Nadja had it. The bread, the explanation, and her daughter back, for now. Yaz wasn’t entirely sure her family believed everything she’d said. In all honesty, she’d needed the TARDIS to prove it.

Shame the Doctor had disappeared as soon as she’d left Graham’s house.

“Half an hour, I promise,” she’d said earnestly, after agreeing to stay a few days in Graham’s spare room. “I only want to check one thing. Be back quicker than you can say ‘Patience’.”

That was two days ago. Not that Yaz was worried, particularly. Knowing the TARDIS, she could be anywhere in time and space right now, fighting yet another battle, fixing yet another problem. And she’d always be alright…

Her eyes flew open when she felt a tap on her shoulder. When did she even close them? Across the table, Ryan was reaching towards her, his expression a mixture of concern and amusement.

“You alright?”

Yaz chuckled, embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You can take a nap in the spare room, if you want,” Graham offered, but she shook her head.

“No, I should really be getting home.” Deftly, she grabbed her mug and drained it, then stood up, feigning new-found energy. “I’ve promised to cook tonight, so Dad’s probably-” _Wait._ “Did anyone hear that?”

“Hear what?” Ryan frowned

Graham sat up, looking around in confusion. “I didn’t hear nothing.”

There again, she heard it; a sharp, insistent knocking on the front door. This time, by the looks on their faces, she could tell Ryan and Graham heard it too. Without a second thought, the latter was on his feet, and the other two followed closely behind as he hurried to the door.

Their hearts skipped a collective beat when a familiar figure came into view behind the frosted glass, blonde hair bobbing as she stood up from peering through the letter box. Before she had a chance to raise her hand and knock again, Graham snatched the door open.

There she stood before them, smiling politely. “Oh good, you’re in! Sorry, I didn’t know if we’d got to the ‘just walk through the door’ stage.”

“Doctor!” They chorused.

“Fam!” The Doctor jumped with glee, her face alight. She then stopped, looking confused. “Wait a second. Why does this feel like a reunion? I was only gone an hour!”

Ryan grimaced, “Try an hour and two days.”

The Doctor’s face dropped comically, her jaw swinging open, eyes like saucers. “I must have got the coordinates wrong. Of course!” Her hands flew to her head, tapping her temples. “Stupid, stupid! I should be crowned king of the Stupiditors! Which, incidentally, I was, once. Whole colony of humans worshipping a God called _JunkinVideo_. Didn’t end well.”

“Doesn’t matter; you’re here now,” Yaz beamed.

Graham added, “Yeah, and I reckon there’s still a cuppa’s worth left in the teapot, if you want it.”

The Doctor grinned from ear to ear.

 

* * *

 

“So exactly where did you go?” Yaz’s tiredness was completely forgotten as they gathered around the table.

The Doctor smiled fondly. “Thought I’d catch up on our friend Patience, see how he did with all those bits and pieces.”

“And?”

“Well, he did it. He saved all the people in his town, and then set up a hospital to carry on doing so. Spread outreach charities across Ysso-Cantar, spread the word about us, spread his healing as far as he could reach. They even tried to elect him into parliament, but he said it wasn’t for him.”

“I guess he recognised you, then?”

The Doctor’s smile grew sad. “About that. I overshot, about forty years or so. But he never forgot any of you; you’ve all got wards named after you, one in every hospital! He found a partner, got married, adopted, lived happily. And his daughter says hi; oh, and she says thank you for-” She suddenly caught herself. “Well, let’s just say, if you ever feel like it, I can send a message to him for all of you.”

Team TARDIS glanced at each other, smiling.

Yaz licked her lips thoughtfully. “Doctor,” she said quietly, “his daughter. What was her name?”

The Time Lord grinned, her eyes alight.

“Hope,” she said. “He named her Hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. 
> 
> That being said, this isn't the end: keep an eye out for more from me soon!


End file.
